


Trust

by Nemesis (ThetaSigma), ThetaSigma



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post Ep s14e14 Secrets Exhumed, Post Ep s7e6 Raw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 09:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6073567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetaSigma/pseuds/Nemesis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetaSigma/pseuds/ThetaSigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fin tangles with John's shooting. John doesn't trust Lewis, even after she tells them she's FBI.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

After his shooting, Fin had worried about John. Not his reaction to the shooting, though that had been bad (not that he’d’ve handled it any better), but John getting shot. Getting shot had made Fin realize it could happen to John, too, and it made him worry. Sometimes, when they were out on the streets, Fin would be struck by worry and he’d scan everything, checking that his lover was safe. He knew John was doing the same thing, worrying the same way. With their job, Fin had a feeling it was only a matter of time before John took a bullet.

He just never expected it to take place in a courtroom.

It had been a wild case. The epithets hadn’t gotten to him – he’d heard worse, honestly, and John had laughed them off too. They’d been more discreet than usual around the station, not needing extra epithets for being in a homosexual relationship. They were already targeted enough by these fucking assholes; there was no need to rile them up by being blatant. An interracial Jewish/black gay couple, that would’ve made a great target, Fin thought wryly.

But it had been going fine. They’d dealt with the hate, shrugging it off as the product of warped and twisted minds, up until that fucking day in the courtroom.

*** 

Dana Lewis had come by to apologize to John, and he had accepted it, though something niggled at him. He still didn’t like her, not for her insults – he’d heard worse on the job – but something about her. A lifetime on the force had left him with good judgment of character, and something about her was not quite right. John put it down to the meds they were giving him and the stress of the shooting – and the stress of not seeing Fin yet. He’d’ve thought Fin would be there.

“Here comes your partner,” Lewis said, looking up.

John’s heart soared, but he kept a straight face. Lewis stood and started apologizing to Fin, who told her simply, “We’re good.”

Truth be told, Fin wanted her out of the room. He wanted to be with John, reassure himself John was okay. His wounds, as far as he could glean from the doctor, weren’t serious, but it had scared Fin.

He handed John his shake and teased him about the location of his wound. “Ass, huh?”

“Looks like our usual fun is on hiatus for a bit,” John said with a regretful sigh. “Though you could kiss it and make it better.”

Fin glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then pressed a quick kiss to John’s other ass cheek. “Gave me a scare,” he admitted, settling in on the bed.

John held Fin’s hand. “We’re even, then, I guess.”

“Let’s not keep score,” Fin said. He held onto John’s hand, hoping that was the last _either_ of them got shot. He looked close at his partner, lying on the hospital bed, and said with feeling, “I love you, babe.”

John smiled woozily at him, sipping his shake. “I love you too, Fin.”

Minutes later, he said, “What do you think of that FBI agent? I don’t trust her.”

“Eh, you’re still pissed,” Fin said. “And woozy, what they got you on?”

“No, I’m serious.”

“Then you’re paranoid.”

*** 

He wasn’t vindicated for years until Lewis confessed to murder, but he gave a small little nod. Every time he’d worked with her, a little voice had told him not to trust her, not to go with her, not to say anything to her. Fin had called him paranoid – but when hadn’t Fin called him paranoid – but he had the last laugh now. Or he would if this were a joking matter, an FBI agent a murderer. One they had worked with, trusted – well, except for John. 

Fin shook his head as they watched her confess. “Son of bitch, you were right,” he said, remembering that day in the hospital. “I just thought you were paranoid, all these years.”

“I was hoping I was wrong,” John said softly. He squeezed Fin’s arm. “But I’m sure about you, my love.”

Fin smiled at him. “Well, I’m glad of _that_.”


End file.
